Welcome To Hell
by TOXiK
Summary: Tsukishima decided that he hated his roommate, and that his first year of university would be a living hell. (influenced by a scene in Casino Royale)


Dorm mates are a fickle thing, really.

What made the university choose the student pairings? Was there a set algorithm for the choices, or was it random, drawn out of a metaphorical hat? Sure, they ask if there's someone you'd like to be paired with (depending, he assumes) but it's a question left blank when he filled out the form. The one person he'd like to room with is unavailable, at another university. So is everyone he went to school with (perhaps not everyone, just the ones he bothered remembering), so that leaves him to wonder who the school will pair him up with. He truly hopes it's someone quiet like that setter on his school's rival team, or studious. Someone that won't aggravate him to no end, like the annoying Hinata, so full of energy it makes him want to knock him unconscious.

 _You've got mail._

He raises a brow, checking his inbox. He'd already been accepted to his first-choice university (it was no surprise, he was always on top of his studies, and being in a college prep class simply looked good on his records), so seeing the school's no-reply dorm messaging address was daunting. He eyed the preview warily, clicking on it soon after. There was no point in waiting, after all. It was just a name, a name of someone he'd be paired off with for a year unless the person would be infuriating and push him to commit homicide. At least he'd have a room to himself like that.

In the end, the opened mail was pushed to the back of his mind. The name didn't ring any bells (well, it had sounded familiar but he assumed there had to be a few with either the same surname or name that he had encountered) so it wasn't worth it to fret. Hopefully his roommate would just leave him alone.

Keyword: hopefully.

* * *

Tsukishima approached the room that he supposedly was going to spend a year in and he dreaded it already. Like most rooms, the door was wide open to facilitate the moving in process. There were boxes upon boxes stacked right by the entrance, making it a hassle to get in through the door. Compared to whoever had already arrived, Tsukishima had nothing in comparison. All he brought was a bag full of clothes, a small suitcase filled with the textbooks he'd be needing as well as a few others on various subjects, a couple of CDs, a laptop, and his sports equipment.

This person, however, looked like they packed _everything_. There was a guitar case against the wall with an amp, various sports balls were strewn across the floor, and Tsukishima could only assume the kid had also brought a sound system because it was probably cranked to the max blasting AC/DC.

He already decided that he hated his roommate, and this year would be a living hell.

Tsukishima set his things down inside in the first free space he could find before following the noise only to see some punk-ish male unpacking, strewing clothes around on the floor of his claimed room, occasionally headbanging and playing the air guitar whenever a solo came on. He would have laughed at the other guy's expense if the sheer volume of the music wasn't already giving him a headache. "Oi," he stood by the door to the room, knocking as loud as he could on it, "could you turn it down?" Gold eyes met almond ones when the other turned around, and it irked Tsukishima to no end that the first response the other gave was a grin and a wave.

"Yo!" The other greeted nonchalantly, turning down the volume dial down by only one notch, presuming that it was low enough like that. He got up from his box-surrounded spot on the ground, leaping to where Tsukishima was and held out his hand. "Name's Terushima, nice to meet ya!"

The first year didn't reach out for the handshake, simply crossing his arms. "Tsukishima. And could you put it a bit lower? You're disturbing everyone." By everyone, he clearly meant himself.

Terushima looked at the blond before smirking, turning his back to the taller male to head to his sound system. At first he began to lower the volume, then proceeded in rotating the dial in the opposite way so that it was maxed out before turning to Tsukishima with a shit-eating grin. "What was that? I couldn't hear you," he mocked, finding the other's pissed off face entertaining.

It took no longer than a couple of seconds before Tsukishima went to the vile machine itself and switching it off, long arms reaching from around his aggravating roommate. "Now can you hear me?" It was Tsukishima's turn to smirk, though Terushima quickly did something about it.

"Ya know, now that we're up close 'n' personal, you're kinda cute," the other taunted, "blondie." He basked in the way that flashes of discomfort showed on the taller male as well as how quickly he took a step back. Of course, that only invited Terushima to step forwards, chests nearly touching as he peered up at his roommate. "Pretty sure I could get used to this," he continued to rile the other, "you're not bad on the eyes. Bet you wouldn't look bad under me, either."

Tsukishima finally understood why that smirk bothered him. It was like that pesky Kuroo, scheming and whatnot, though Terushima's smirk seemed like it leaned more towards sexual harassment. "Tch," Tsukishima attempted to ignore the pink that was dusting his cheeks, "as if." He tried to remain calm, though his voice was uneven as he spoke. "On the other hand, you're terrible to look at and I'm dreading every minute being your roommate already," his snarky attitude was back, though the blush remained on his cheeks.

"Aw, how _precious_. Playing hard to get?" Of course, Terushima didn't back down from the challenge, egging the other on, "how adorable."

Oh how the first year wanted to wipe the smirk right off his face. Realizing that the same types of comments wouldn't work on this sort of person (unlike the two freak idiots that were on his team), Tsukishima put on a straight face, crossing his arms as to put more distance between them. "Am I going to have a problem with you?" He asked, looking down at the shorter male.

Terushima took a step back, laughing as the younger's face contorted in discontent. "Nah man," he grinned, waving the question off, "it's not like you're my type anyway."

"What?" He wondered how his question had anything having to do with being 'his type.'

"Ya know, my type."

"You mean smart?" Tsukishima quipped.

"Nah," Terushima grinned, not wanting to be outdone, "more like single."

Tsukishima just knew he'd have to find some way out of there. Not only he couldn't stand his roommate, but it also seemed like there was about to be a lot of drama at their doorstep. The blond let out an audible groan, much to Terushima's delight.


End file.
